Negligence
by csiphile
Summary: You never really know what is underneath the surface until you scratch it. J/S
1. Default Chapter

Title: Negligence  
  
Author: Stepf  
  
Rating: Strong PG 13/Low R  
  
Spoilers: Everything up to now, nothing specifically except "Are you now or have you ever been" references.  
  
Summary: You never really know what is underneath the surface until you scratch it. J/S  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Don't sue me.  
  
AN: At the end this time...  
  
Thanks: To everyone at Maple Street, you know who you are, for inspiring me to even write with your fabulous thoughts and analysis of the eps. And those who reviewed my last couple WaT fics, big special thanks, it was the motivation I needed to try a WiP as this is.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
Jack looks out the window into the dead of night. Considering the hour- 3 am- it's bright out, the street illuminated by the full moon. It s a typical upscale suburban neighborhood, with large houses on large lots surrounded by high bushes and trees for privacy. Perfect lawns with perfect landscaping, just the right combination of color and green, most of them obviously tended to by a professional. Inside the perfect houses people lay, blissful in their ignorance of what lay under the surface of their perfect neighborhood, unaware that in one of these houses, a man is holding a woman hostage - a woman they have been searching for for 3 weeks. The reason why Jack Malone and Samantha Spade sit in a government-issued sedan at 3:10 am on a Wednesday morning.  
  
Jack snorts at the thought of suburban life. He lived it most of his life. Until he and Marie had it out and he packed his bags and moved into the hotel full time; at least until he could find an apartment. You never really know what is underneath the surface until you scratch it. In every neighborhood in America he figures there is one deep dark secret lurking, whether it be a murderer, drug dealer, wife abuser, kidnapper, or plain old adulterer. He cringes internally at that thought. He sighs aloud and reaches for the cup of coffee on the dash. He takes a sip of it, stone cold by now from inattention.  
  
He looks over at his companion seated in the passenger seat. She is silently looking out the window, focused on one house in particular, looking for any sign of movement. The moonlight coming through the windows filters through the blonde in her hair, lighting her face in a striking way. He can see the weariness on her face; the dark circles under her eyes, her hair mussed from its normal perfect placement. He hadn't wanted her to come, it was asking for trouble. But she did, and he is glad she did. Just being in the confined space of the car with her is enough for him for now. He probably would have fallen asleep by now without her here. Finally she turns and looks at him, her mouth twisted in that half grin she favors.  
  
"Not much movement. Probably asleep like everyone else."  
  
"Close your eyes, Sam. I'll wake you if something happens." He smiles at her, wishing he could tell her all the things he was thinking in that minute. How sleeping with her may have destroyed his marriage, but was the best thing that ever happened to him. That every time he looks at her, that feeling inside him gets stronger. Pulls harder at him to relieve the ache he feels from not being near her, from not touching her in so long.  
  
"Uh huh. Then who wakes you when the bad guy gets away with the girl?" she asks, her tone light, teasing .  
  
He gives her an annoyed expression, even though she is right, and turns back to the house. She shouldn't be there, and he decides to tell her as much. After the OPR incident last month, they were all treading on thin ice. Regardless what Martin's father had done to fix it.  
  
"Sam, you shouldn't be here." His words are quickly cut off.  
  
"Why not? This is my case too." She gives him a hard look. "Besides, if I shouldn't, then you shouldn't either. What where Van Doran's words?" She stops and thinks for a moment before continuing. "Oh yeah. 'Don't go NEAR that house, it's off limits to you and your team'. And yet here we are."  
  
"It was my choice to come Sam. I don't want to get you in trouble."  
  
"Too late for that, don't you think?" She says with a small smile. He easily reads between the lines and cringes. This is the first reference she has made to the investigation since it happened.  
  
"Sam."  
  
"Well it was my choice to come too. How much more damage can we do to our reputations with OPR now anyway?"  
  
"A lot and you know it."  
  
"Yeah." She says quietly and silence fills the car. Not an uncomfortable one. They are past uncomfortable silences at this point.  
  
Resting her head back and closing her eyes, Sam lets out a loud sigh. "I hate stakeouts, they are so tedious."  
  
He says nothing, just observes the slim line of her neck, exposed by the angle of her head against the car seat. Remembers what the skin feels like there; soft, smooth. Had he meant it was over? Did he want it to be over? And here he is again. Back to the same questions, the same issues, that plagued him four weeks ago when they where forced to confront the repercussions of their actions. When they came dangerously close to being exposed to everyone. He didn't want it exposed, for the same reasons she didn't. Because if everyone knew, then it really would be over. There would be no way they could continue what they had and not be suspected. Their every action would be analyzed, their words misconstrued by others whose thoughts where now slanted to the fact they had slept together. But.he wanted it to be over. Didn't he? He wanted to try with his wife. Right? If he really wanted to try with Marie then why was he even debating this while staring at her. He had done what he thought was right. But is what is right always the best thing for you? "Dammit Jack. Same circle, different day" he thinks and is pulled out of his thoughts by her soft voice.  
  
"I think Martin knew."  
  
He is stunned by her words. How did she know what he was thinking? "What? Really?"  
  
"Yeah, he made a few.off-handed comments a while back, before the OPR investigation."  
  
"You didn't."  
  
At that she lifts her head and looks at him. "No."  
  
He nods carefully as she returns her head to the seat.  
  
"Maybe we weren't as careful as we thought we were. I know it was hard for me to act like nothing had happened." She trails off slightly before starting again. "I'm sorry. Forget I said anything, we had this discussion already."  
  
"I still care for you, Sam."  
  
"I know, and that makes it so hard. You know? I can't just turn off these feelings Jack. It takes time, and being with you every day, working with you as close as we do.It's just taking longer than I would have liked."  
  
He swallows the lump in his throat. He understood all too well. "Do you.Do you want a transfer?"  
  
At that, her head snaps up. "What? No. I'd rather have what little time with you at work rather than none. Even if it does make it harder. Unless..unless you don't want me around."  
  
"Oh god no. I." He pauses, considering his words. "I need you with me Sam."  
  
She purses her lips together tightly and closes her eyes again, processing what he said. "Need."  
  
"I didn't mean it.Dammit Sam. I don't know." And he didn't anymore. Last month he was resolved that their affair not continue. But the more time he spent with her, the more he wondered if that was the right choice. It was for the sake of their careers, but what about their happiness? At what point does the personal trump the work issues?  
  
"You don't know what? How you need me? I thought we finished this, Jack. I distinctly remember a conversation that involved you telling me it was over."  
  
"I know. I can't.I.God dammit!" He can't seem to get the words out. He knows whatever he says will hurt her, deeply. Jack knows he can't change his mind depending on the state of their professional careers. It's an either/or situation. Either he makes a commitment to end it for good or he decides to damn policy and rules and continue the best thing that has ever happened to him.  
  
"Jack you cant do this to me. I can't be on this see saw. Its not a unilateral decision anymore, WE need to decide what to do if this isn't really over. But first you need to make a choice, and that's something I can't do for you."  
  
"I know. I'm so sorry, Sam. Logic tells me we should end this now before more people get hurt. But my heart is telling me something else. I.I know I can't do this to you. It's wrong. I would do anything not to hurt you, that's not my intent. But that's exactly what I am doing..I shouldn't have said anything."  
  
"No, probably you shouldn't have. But you did, and now we have to deal with it. There has to be some kind of.resolution to this."  
  
During the conversation, they had both been facing each other, neither really paying attention to the reason why they were there. Until she moves her head and notices something.  
  
"Shit, Jack." His gaze follows hers, shocked to see almost every light on in the house, the garage door wide open, with a new car parked in it.  
  
"What the hell, how did we miss an entire car?"  
  
"I can only begin to guess," she comments dryly.  
  
They watch in silence as nothing happens for a while. Jack can sense her getting antsy, they are so close to finding this woman, and yet now they are stuck. Unaware who just came into the picture, and how many, they could be potentially undermanned and have no clue.  
  
"I'm calling Martin," she says and gets out her cell.  
  
"No, not yet. We drag him into this and that's one more person to get in trouble for this. We wait."  
  
Just then Jack's option of waiting is eliminated. "Sam."  
  
"Yeah I see it."  
  
They both ease out of the car, moving silently across the lawn, hands on firearms. Getting to within 100 yards of the house.  
  
Two men bring the woman out the door from the house to the garage. She is kicking and fighting, though making no other noise. Jack can see tape over her mouth. He doesn't, however, see a weapon of any kind on the men. While trying to force her into the newly arrived vehicle, she gets off a vicious punch to one of the men, giving Jack his chance.  
  
"Now," he says and they come out from their hiding space, guns drawn, announcing themselves loudly. "Federal officers, hands up."  
  
Initially the men comply, raising their hands in a gesture of compliance, and moving to the end of the vehicle, the woman secured behind them.  
  
"Hold it. DO NOT MOVE." Jack watches the young man continue his movements, giving him one last chance. "STOP, I will shoot."  
  
He gives the guy one second before firing off a shot into his shoulder, causing the young man to call out in agony and fall to the floor. Jack watches as Sam slowly approaches the other man and the woman, quickly snatching the woman away and sending her to stand by the bush line, a safe distance away.  
  
"Sam, make sure she is ok and then call local police and Martin."  
  
"Jack."  
  
"Now, Sam," he orders, and she complies, leaving him with the two men. The injured one is still rolling on the ground, gripping his bleeding shoulder. The other one is just standing serenely, and something about him makes Jack uncomfortable. He's almost too calm. Quickly Jack disarms the injured man without letting the other out of his sight.  
  
"Turn around," he orders. Jack wonders where the neighbors are; usually a gunshot is like screaming "fire" -- it gets everyone's attention. The man slowly turns, placing his hands on the trunk of the car.  
She can't believe the woman is alive. They had long figured she was dead until a tip came in and they followed it. Carefully she pulls off the tape on the woman's mouth and hands, kneeling with her back to Jack. Turning briefly, she sees him with one suspect whose hands are down on the car, while the other is still bleeding on the garage floor.  
  
"You ok?" she asks the terrified woman who only manages a nod. "It's ok. It's ok." She whispers and takes off her light FBI jacket, and wraps it around the woman's shoulders. The air is warm here; she is comfortable in just her favorite shirt. A low cut soft gray with blue piping along the hems. Reaching one hand out to the woman, she pulls out her cell and is about to call Danny when one gunshot permeates the air, followed by a second.  
  
For one moment, she is frozen to the spot. Terror washes through her. She turns as if in a dream, her throat suddenly dry, the edges of reality blurry. Unwilling to face whatever happened in those 15 seconds her back was turned. Her worst fears are confirmed when both Jack and the previously standing suspect are now on the ground. She can see the suspect's face covered in blood, eyes wide open in death.  
  
"JACK," she screams, swiftly getting up and running to him. Samantha can hear her heart pounding in her ears, the world stops for her, nothing moves forward, nothing is real except him. And right now, he isn't moving, his eyes aren't open, his face has already lost some of its color. She knows why; there is blood flowing freely from a gunshot wound to his chest. She sinks to her knees, quickly dialing numbers so familiar to her. Help, she needs help.  
  
Sam isn't aware of speaking, but she knows she states her badge number, the address and that there is an officer down. Once that task is completed, she throws the phone to one side, her hands shaking violently, not sure what to do, not wanting to make it worse, but knowing her inaction can't be helping either. Taking a deep breath, she places both hands over the source of the blood; she doesn't have anything on her to use as a bandage.  
  
She can feel the warm blood, HIS warm blood, seeping through her hands, wetting everything in sight. She looks around frantically, her hands aren't doing the job, and blood is everywhere, running in rivers down his chest, staining the concrete. Finally she sees a pile of clean rags in the far corner of the garage. Looking at the woman, who hasn't moved since Sam had deposited her on the lawn, Sam realizes she will be no help. Getting up herself, she runs, grabs the pile and returns in record time, quickly placing a few rags over the entrance wound, pleased when the flow seems to slow a little. Settling on the driveway next to him, she finally breathes.  
  
Given a moment of peace, the reality of the situation hits her. Jack. Bleeding profusely. Shot by a suspect. Any agent's worst fear. Keeping her hands firmly on his chest, Sam lets her head dip down between her arms, tears flowing freely. She looks at her hands, covered in his blood; they are shaking violently, even as she tries to steady them. This isn't supposed to be how this happens. You're supposed to find the victim and bring in the suspect, not watch your partner die on a stranger's cold driveway, a driveway you weren't supposed to be near anyway. Licking her lips and sniffling, Sam looks at his face, even whiter than before.  
  
"Jack, come on. Don't die on me. Please. Please. Hang in there."  
  
Looking around again, she strains to hear the sounds of an ambulance. They are on their way, but not nearly fast enough. "Hurry up, come on.hurry," she whispers.  
  
Turning back to him, she is surprised to see his eyes open and for one minute she thinks the end had come, that he has died in front of her. Then he blinks once, and again, and moves his arm.  
  
"Jack? Oh thank God. I know you can hear me. Hang on a few more minutes ok, help is on the way."  
  
"Saaaaaammm.." he calls out, his breath short and quick.  
  
"Shhhhh, no talking. You'll be ok." She tries to give him a big smile but only manages to bite her trembling lip to keep from crying.  
  
"Sam, I..I'm...sorry." She can hear him struggle to breathe and it breaks her heart.  
  
"No sorry's, no talking ok?" At that point, the sound of the ambulance becomes louder. Sam looks up to see the ambulance, pull into the wide driveway, followed by several police cars. Their headlight illuminating her and placing Jack in a ghostly light. His hand on her arm, however, turns her attention back. Looking into his eyes, she sees everything she needs to, and things that she doesn't. He is giving up, accepting his fate. Well she refuses to, he will not die, he can't die, that's not acceptable behavior for an FBI agent, especially Jack Malone. Before the cavalry arrives, she leans into him and whispers.  
  
"If you die on me, I will kill you." She sees his eyes laugh at that and finally gives him a genuine small smile as the paramedics push her out of the way.  
  
In the commotion she registers that Danny has taken care of the woman they had been there to save, though she doesn't recall him arriving, doesn't notice the expression on the EMT's face when he sees Jack. She hears what the paramedics are saying, but doesn't comprehend a word of it. Following them to the back of the ambulance, she gives them little choice. She is going with them.  
  
Sitting in the back with one EMT, Sam grabs Jacks hand that isn't hooked to an IV and holds it tightly against her chest. Her two smaller hands wrapped around his larger one, her chin resting carefully on top of both their hands. The entire way to the hospital, Sam whispers anything to him to keep him with her.  
tbc.........  
  
AN: Ok, this might have a resemblance to Fall Out, but only initially. It takes a left turn, where FO probably takes a right. And sides, I had this written loooooong before I knew about FO, so there! I elected to write it anyway and post. Hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to review! 


	2. And then the future was uncertain

Title: Negligence, Chapter 2  
  
Author: Stepf  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but wouldn't mind borrowing Danny for a bit.  
  
Notes: Ahhh chapter two. I know it has been a long time coming, but I went on vacation (WOOOO VEGAS!) and then I had to catch up with life. Hopefully this short little thing is worth your time. Cause the next one.all kinds unseemly.  
  
Thanks: To everyone who has read and reviewed, or just read. Thank you for supporting the fan fic writers brain. Big props go out to all those at Maple Street and my fabulous beta, E, what she goes through so you get this perfect final product. Dev and Din..love you guys, for all the support and suggestions and telling me when it sucked.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
An emergency room is a cacophony of noise and sights and smells. Some people are in probably the worst, others the best time of their lives. The average person notices all of it. Sam, however, notices none of it. After following the stretcher back as far as the nurse would allow her to go, Sam just stands, waiting. Numb to the bone, feeling is pushed into the "later" category. Feeling is too much like admitting Jack could still die. She is running what happened through her brain, how this could have happened, angry that she didn't know because her back was turned. Adrenaline is running through her body now; she can feel herself shaking from it. She needs to do something, anything.  
  
So she paces back and forth just outside the trauma room where they took him in. If she wanted to, Sam could stand on her tiptoes and look into the small square windows, but something won't let her. She can hear her both her breathing, and her heart going at a fast pace, unable to slow down. She can still feel his blood under her fingers, the warm substance spilling out of him and going nowhere useful. Draining him of life. The urge to peek through that window is starting to overpower her. She has to know what is happening.  
  
Finally deciding to just do it, Sam starts to stand on her tiptoes when her name is called down the hall. That gets her attention, and she drops back down, but not before seeing doctors and nurses frantically trying to save her boss, her mentor, her.something. 'Please save him, I need him,' she thinks and turns to the voice.  
  
"Sam.oh my god. Are you ok?" Danny asks, concern evident in his voice. Despite probably being awakened from a dead sleep, he looks awake and refreshed, like he does every morning. But his expression is what really grabs her attention. He looks like he has seen a ghost. She doesn't understand why until she follows his gaze down and really looks at herself, instead of just glancing like she had been.  
  
She is shocked to see herself covered in blood. Actually, covered doesn't adequately describe it, she is practically bathed in it. Blood is soaked into her cotton shirt to the point of almost not being able to tell the original color. The cuffs are a dark crimson, the fabric at its saturation point. Her jeans are not as bad, but long streaks of blood cascade down her thighs, stopping at her knees, where just dirt covered her shins.  
  
"Ohhhhhhh..god." She draws out and looks up at him, desperation in her eyes.  
  
"Sam? Are you ok?" he asks her again. She can hear him, but it's fuzzy, in the distance. She has to get rid of it, get the blood of her. His blood, on her. Covering her. Drying on her. She has to get it off. Off. Her. NOW.  
  
"Not my blood, it's not mine. Jack." She starts to pace more furiously now, wondering if exposing herself in a trauma room would really garner that much attention. Anything to get out of these clothes. Pulling at the hem of her shirt, Danny's hand stops her.  
  
"Wait, Samantha. Wait," he says, and indicates with his hand for her to stay there.  
  
She watches him head down the hall and talk to a tall blonde nurse, who nods and walks away from him. Danny turns back to her and gives her a wan smile. He's trying. Before he can return however, the doors to the trauma room open, ushering out Jack, endless monitors and tubes, and several doctors and nurses. One doctor stops and looks at her.  
  
"Are you Sam?"  
  
"Yeah, yes. I am. How is he?"  
  
"He's hanging on. We have him stable for now, but he needs major surgery to pull that slug out and repair the damage. Right now it looks like he took a hit right in the liver; we have the bleeding under control for now. The surgeon will update you later." She sees the doctor take in her appearance. "Ma'am, are you ok?"  
  
"Fine, I'm fine. Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome. You can wait upstairs but, ummm, can I recommend you get some scrubs from the nurse first?"  
  
"Got it covered." A male voice calls from over her shoulder. She hadn't heard Danny approach them. The doctor nods at Danny and starts to walk away until Danny's voice again floats over her.  
  
"Umm doc, can you be sure to preserve the bullet for us?" Sam can hear in his voice the hesitation to even ask, but it has to be done.  
  
"Of course," he says and walks away, following the path Jack has just taken.  
  
"Samantha, come on."  
  
She feels him touch her upper arm to guide her, but the contact makes her violently pull away. No one can touch her. Not just for evidence sake, but she can't stand the idea of anyone but Jack touching her now. She needs to feel him again, alive before allowing that. Quickly Danny snaps his hand back, and simply leads her into the closest bathroom, initially trying to follow her in, but she gives him a harsh glare that stops him at the door.  
  
"I can undress myself."  
  
"I know, but the."  
  
She licks her lips and swallows hard. This is one conversation she never wanted to have. "Evidence. I know, I've done it before. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of blood to test." With that she turns into the bathroom, holding scrubs in her shaking hands.  
  
Carefully stripping the stained clothes off, Sam can't help but think of what could have been done to avoid this. If she hadn't left him alone with 2 suspects, hadn't turned her back, hadn't... If they had seen that other car, maybe they would have been more prepared. After pulling the institutional green colored scrubs over her head, Sam carefully folds her clothes, like she would if she was folding laundry. Walking out, she looks at herself in the mirror. She looks tired, drained even. Her normally bright complexion is now ashen, her brown eyes dull. Moving farther down her face, Sam is distressed to find a smear of blood under her chin. Bringing one hand up, she then notices the blood on her hands, covering them, under her nails, staining the cuticles.  
  
As panic sets in, Sam almost drops the clothes on the ground, but has the presence of mind to set them on a chair placed next to the sink. Swiftly turning on the faucet, Sam sticks her hands under the running water, unaware of the temperature, and not caring. She has to get rid of the blood. Now. Pumping soap out of the dispenser, she scrubs her hands violently. Not noticing the pain as the too hot water makes contact with raw skin. Rubbing them together quickly, she watches the red tinted water swirl down the drain. Quickly moving to her face, she scrubs at the dried blood there, swiftly removing the mark. Rinsing off her hands, she can still see blood under her perfectly manicured nails. Scrubbing at her right hand with the left, she isn't aware of Danny calling her name through the door until he actually opens it and sticks his head in.  
  
"Samantha?" She can hear him now, but chooses to ignore him until he poses a question. "Samantha? Are you ok?"  
  
Her first instinct is to answer yes, fine, as she has been all evening. But she can't anymore. She can't keep this up, not with his blood on her hands, literally. "I'm.no. I'm not fine." She practically whispers and turns from the sink to look at Danny. In his eyes she sees compassion.  
  
"Samantha." He starts and moves toward her, wrapping his arms around the small blonde, made smaller looking by the oversized scrubs. Initially she just stands straight in his embrace, but eventually she gives in, sinking into his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. Allowing him, if only for a moment, to help bear the burden of what happened.  
  
She doesn't want it to happen, but before she knows it, tears are flowing freely, followed by hitching sobs and shaking. It had to come out at some point, and she supposes it's better mostly in private than with everyone around her. Gripping onto the back of his suit coat, she releases the fear, distress, panic, everything since she heard that gunshot. After several minutes she releases her grip on him, pulling away slightly, but staying in his personal space. She didn't realize how much she needed the human contact. Standing quietly for a moment, she looks at him.  
  
"Thank you," she says.  
  
"If you need anything.."  
  
She halts him by placing a small hand on his chest. "I know.thank you."  
  
"Come on," he says, and guides her out of the small room, stopping briefly to collect her clothes and place them in a bag he has also procured from the nurse. The image of Samantha standing covered in his boss's blood is something Danny is not likely to forget in this lifetime.  
  
For the longest 2 hours of her life, Samantha sits quietly in the surgery waiting room. She has barely spoken more than 3 sentences the entire time. She is only peripherally aware of the arrival of Vivian and Van Doren. She thinks someone had told her that Martin was interviewing the witness and booking the suspect, now not just for kidnapping, but potentially for the homicide of a federal agent. She shudders slightly at the thought.  
  
"Hey, you ok?" Danny whispers in her ear, close enough for friendly comfort, but not too close. "Cold?"  
  
She turns and gives him an empty look. "In more than one way" is her cryptic response. Danny accepts the answer and places one hand on her back, slowly rubbing up and down in an attempt to make her feel better. Not knowing that nothing could make her feel better. Nothing short of going back 3 hours and rewriting the past.  
  
tbc........... 


	3. When it was good

Title: Negligence  
  
Author: Stepf  
  
Rating: R, R, R, R! Not a real strong one, maybe a really harsh PG13. Id rather go high then low.  
  
A/N: Ahh one chapter of just unseemliness. That's it.nothing more than that. So if you don't want to read the unseemly parts, skip this chapter and you wont miss much. As if you would. Next chapter its back to reality. *~*~*~*~*~ indicate flashback.  
  
Thanks: To just everyone. You all rock hard. Maple Streeeeet. Everyone. You know who you are.  
  
He opens his eyes briefly to find not what he expected, but harsh white light. Moving white light at that. It is making him nauseous. He is lying on his back, his chest hurts, why does his chest..oh. Now he remembers. Where is Sam? She is the last thing he remembers seeing. Her beautiful face, marred by fear. As he tries to say her name, the nurse's voice cuts into his thoughts, telling him he is going into surgery and he will be fine in a few hours. Finally the moving stops and he feels drowsy. His last thoughts are of her, the first time they met. When he shook her hand that day, he knew she would be something special to him. They had continued to work together for 3 years, 3 years of torturous light touching, of comments and looks, before finally taking the step a year ago that had been charted since that first meeting.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~ He pulled the picture off the board with a smile on his face. This was a good one, they found her; an eight year old had gone missing from her school yard, could have ended badly, but it didn't. She had been kidnapped by a father who was tired of his ex-wife dictating his visitation. The father had turned himself in willingly, apologetically even. It was a good one. One where you could go home and not have nightmares.  
  
Jack could hear her behind him, finishing up filing the paperwork he signed off on. Wiping the board clean of the black and red markings, he turned to her, emboldened by winning this time.  
  
"Hey, let's get out of here."  
  
She looked up at him, confused. "What?"  
  
He was giddy almost, childlike, as he walked past her to the coat rack, pulling down her favorite leather hip-length coat. Holding the coat up in her direction, he spoke again.  
  
"Let's get out of here. Celebrate a little. We don't get ones that end this easily all that frequently." He saw her hesitate and tried again, this time his voice a little lower. "Please, Sam."  
  
She regarded him carefully before making a decision. Why not, what could it hurt? "Sure. Where are we off to?"  
  
"You'll find out." He winked conspiratorially at her while holding up the coat as she slid her arms in.  
  
He watched her drink the beer placed in front of her. Some import he hadn't heard of, the cherry colored liquid disappearing out of the glass as they talked easily about whatever came into their minds. Iit was almost too easy to talk to her. The words flowed so effortlessly as he told her about the case that almost made him quit, what made him want to be in the Missing Persons Unit, how he came to be in charge. She listened with quiet intensity, her brown eyes never leaving his, her attention undivided.  
  
She looked beautiful that evening. Typical black pants with a stunning deep blue low cut blouse he hadn't seen before, and a small gold necklace close to her neck. He marveled at her natural beauty; simple, classic. not a lot of makeup, her hair pulled back professionally into a ponytail. and suddenly he was overcome with the urge to touch her. So he did. Carefully, almost imperceptibly, he placed his hand over hers on the table, not sure where he was going with this, mostly just gauging her reactions. When she didn't pull away but left her hand there, he made another small move, rubbing his thumb back and forth near her wrist. Still, her eyes never left his; they were boring into him now. The two of them were in their own world inside this bar. The rest of the planet didn't seem to exist to either of them.  
  
He could feel his heart starting to race. Her touch was intoxicating, like nothing else. Her skin was as smooth as it looked -- soft, feminine. The touch may have been electric , but what he saw in her eyes that did him in, pushed him into overdrive. She looked at him like there was nowhere she wanted to be, like there was nothing else, like he was all she ever wanted.  
  
Releasing her hand for one second, he reached into his coat pocket and drew out his wallet, leaving enough on the table to cover the beers and a healthy tip. Reading his mind, she had pulled on her coat and gathered her purse, standing as he did. He led her outside into the chilly New York spring air, one hand on the small of her back. Taking a left turn out of the bar, they walked slowly. Both of them aware of the destination, but wanting to enjoy the journey too. Besides they weren't teenagers anymore who needed to run home and rip each other clothes off, even if that was exactly what was on both of their minds.  
  
Slowly they strolled down 5th Avenue, her hand eventually finding it way into his, her fingers slowly rubbing up and down against his. He looked at her and grinned at her mischievous expression. Her eyes seemed an impossible color of, almost ; the wanting in them would have been apparent to anyone close enough to see. Returning her earlier gesture, Jack continued the circular motion with his thumb that he had started in the bar.  
  
Finally coming to the outside of his hotel, they stopped for a moment. This was it, THE line, the line that shouldn't be crossed for a myriad of reasons, none of which were voiced, or even thought of at that moment. Instead he stood with her outside the lobby doors. They now faced each other, the fingers on his free hand lightly touching her hair just above her right ear, smoothing back invisible stray hairs, feeling her tilt ever so slightly into his hand. Her eyes closed momentarily at the sensation.  
  
"Sam."  
  
"You know, you're the only person who calls me that." Her voice was low, telling.  
  
"Yeah, I know."  
  
With that, he gently pushed her through the large glass doors, beginning something that wouldn't end, even if they wanted it to. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She can feel Danny's hand on her back- different then Jack's.it's firm, comforting, but not...loving- and she allows her mind to wander. She thinks back to their first meeting, when he first took her hand in his in a handshake. She felt the electricity even then. His eyes never left hers as they were introduced. She knew he felt it too; it was in his face, his body language. It continued like that until they acted upon their unspoken attraction almost a year ago.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* She watched as he pushed open the door to his room, allowing her through first. She took the moment to look around. He was at one of the nicer hotels in the city, with a spacious room , a small sitting area under the expansive window and a large king sized bed near her. Feeling his fingers on her neck, Sam shuttered slightly before shedding the coat and walking over the open window. His view was impressive; she could see almost all of the downtown. The room was illuminated only by the lights from the nearby office buildings and the clear moon.  
  
"What a beautiful view."  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
At his tone she turned around, he was standing almost right behind her. She watched as he closed the small gap between them, and was surprised when he turned her back to the window, his body pressed slightly against hers. The sensation was killing her, but she didn't let him know that. It was a game now, she could tell, to see who would break first.  
  
She listened carefully as he pulled her into him slightly, one hand on her hip, the other pointing things out the window as he spoke. His warm breath landing on her exposed neck, each breath sent another shiver through her. It was.intoxicating, she felt drunk, almost lightheaded, but not from the one beer she'd consumed. It was him, his mere presence that made her feel like this, She might've just had to break, and then he gave her an opportunity by misidentifying a building.  
  
Biting her lower lip, she turned her head to him, her lips impossibly close to his ear and whispered while moving his arm gently. "That's not the Cadillac Building.That is." She felt him react to her touch, licking his lips lightly. She couldn't take it anymore - the teasing had gone too far already. She had been waiting for this for a long time, and Samantha knew he had too. Taking two small steps, she placed herself in front of him, effectively trapping herself between Jack and the cool window. She could feel his body heat through her clothes, and the thrilling difference in temperature between the window and Jack himself.  
  
They stayed like that for a moment, Jack's larger body easily covering hers, pinning her in place. She couldn't leave if she wanted to, not that she did. Staring up at him, Sam looked into his eyes.They claim the eyes are the window to the soul, and in Jack's case, that was true. She could look into them and see everything she needed. She could read him in a second, and had been able to do so for years. Finally he made the first move, placing one hand on the glass behind her, as the other reached up and traced a line on her collarbone, following a line up her long neck to her jaw. Suddenly Sam was acutely aware of the utter silence in the room, except for the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears. When his hand made it up her face, and began tracing a line along her hairline, she couldn't restrain a small groan; there was something very erotic about it, though she didn't know why. His ministrations had initially rendered her motionless, unable to do much except relax into his touch and make small appreciative noises. At some point she had closed her eyes, but finally she opened them and glanced briefly at him before bringing her hands up and running them slowly along his broad chest -- she could feel the muscle definition. Sam allowed her nails to lightly graze along his chest over his shirt as she brought her hands back together. He had apparently lost his tie somewhere between the door and the window. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, still not looking at his face. She knew if she did, they would be on the bed and this would be over much to fast for her liking.  
  
After revealing his chest, Sam allowed one finger to trace his breastbone, following the line down to his navel and stopping, this time causing him to take in a quick breath. Enjoying doing this to him, she slowly ran her hands up his arms, placing her hands gently on his chest before pushing the offending shirt off him. The silence was again broken by a swishing sound, as his shirt fell into a puddle on the floor. Looking at his naked chest, Sam resisted tearing off the rest of his clothes- and hers for that matter; she wanted to take her time. No one had made her feel like this ever, and she wanted to stay here as long as possible.  
  
Sam was only brought out of her thoughts by Jack again making contact with her skin, repeating the same movements on her that she had completed on him. Unbuttoning her shirt, allowing the tips of his fingers to graze along her skin as he went, causing her to arch slightly toward his touch. She was putty in his hands, her lightheadedness only increasing as he pulled the shirt off her body, exposing her to him.  
  
Sam stopped when a cold sensation ran down her back. Initially she was confused as to the origin of the cold until it occurred to her that they were slowly undressing in front of an open window; her back was still pressed against it. Granted they were ten stories up, but she still didn't need to be exposing herself to anyone who had the good fortune to be able to see them at that moment. Finally she spoke the first words since they started this.  
  
"Umm Jack, window."  
  
She watched as confusion, then realization, and finally a small smile spread across his handsome features. Pulling her slightly away from the window, Jack moved to close the curtains, leaving a sliver open to allow a small amount of light into the room.  
  
"Sorry," he whispered in her ear, and wrapped his long arms around her waist, pulling her into him. When their bare flesh met, both of them shivered slightly, although not from the chill in the room. She felt him lean into her, his lips lightly grazing the nape of her neck, sending chills down her spine and another groan escaped her lips. She was completely turned on, her whole body responded to him, tingling, and he hadn't even kissed her on the lips yet. Tilting her head to the side, she moaned louder as he took his cue and kissed up her neck, stopping as he got to her jaw and pulling away, causing her to whimper at the lack of contact. Finally giving in, she looked into his eyes and saw something that never in her 30 years had she ever seen from a man. Love, but not just that -- adoration, respect, worship even, nothing anyone else had ever given her. She could feel the heat rising in her. She couldn't take the foreplay much longer; it was killing her, but at the same time she didn't want it to stop. Running her hand through his dark hair, she brought herself to her full height, placing them almost face to face. Stroking some strands of his hair through her fingers, Sam let her hand linger on his cheek before allowing her thumb to run along his lips slowly, feeling them part ever so slightly under her touch.  
  
She felt his hands drop to her hips; he never allowed them to leave her body. Moving her thumb out of the way, Sam tilted her head up and finally made contact with his lips. It was what she expected and so much more, like fire and ice colliding, a reaction that had no parallel in nature. What had started slow and easy quickly turned fast and furious. Once their lips made contact, any ideas she had about taking this slow were lost in a haze of want and need. Somehow they again found themselves pressed against the window, this time with the curtain obscuring their actions. He pressed into her harder then before and she could feel the heat, the desire from everywhere on his body. Their lips almost attacking each other, allowing each other access. After several breath taking, furious moments he pulled away from her, slowing the pace enough to remove her bra and thereby truly exposing her to him. Deciding enough was enough, Sam slowly removed her pants, leaving just her black lace underwear on. Giving him a mischievous grin, she went to work on his pants also, also leaving him in just his boxer briefs.  
  
"God Sam." he whispered, a slight tremble noticeable in his voice as he looked her up and down before holding her face in his hands and kissing her slowly, tauntingly.  
  
Pressing herself into him, she gave him just the forward motion he needed to pull her up, which allowed her to wrap her long legs around his middle, using the window to steady them. Once he had her secured around him, he pulled her away from the window, and she giggled slightly at the sensation of being lifted. Wrapping her arms around him, she went to work on his neck, alternately kissing and nibbling at the skin. She could tell it was driving him crazy; his body shuttered very so slightly as she did it.  
  
Finally he stopped moving in front of the bed. She felt his hand slide up her damp back and pull slightly at her ponytail, releasing her hair from the holder and allowing it to flow freely over her back and his shoulders. Laying her down on the bed, Jack paused slightly looking at her.  
  
"I won't break Jack." She smiled at him.  
  
"I know," he said and leaned over her, careful not to put his full weight on her.  
  
Smiling, she reached up and touched his face one more time as friends, prepared to cross over into whatever was next. She just knew in her heart that this wasn't a one time thing, that this was something that would continue for as long as they let it.  
  
Jack had his hands roaming her body, slowly at first, but accelerating the pace as she responded to his touch with eagerness. It was incredible- indescribable- the feeling he gave her. Before she knew it, their remaining undergarments were lost to the mounting passion, and she had the feeling of an out-of-body experience. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
tbc..... 


	4. The past and the present

Title: Negligence  
  
Author: Stepf  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own them, and if I did..well nevermind.  
  
AN: So much in such a short chapter. ( Enjoy everyone, there is only one more chapter left in this fic.  
  
Thanks: To all those who have reviewed, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I appreciate it to no end. It really keeps me writing. To my beta, E, she puts up with so much in my writing (horrible grammar, tense issues.), she's a saint. Maple Streeeeeet, you guys are THE BEST. Love you all.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Cold reality sweeps through her. She isn't in that hotel room anymore, she is sitting in an uncomfortable chair waiting to find out if the man she had given her body and soul to was..gone. Sniffling slightly, she places her face in her hands, praying that everything will be fine. In that instant Sam realizes she would give up their relationship in an instant if it meant he could live another day, another month, another decade. He means too much to her and so many others to leave like this. He has a family.  
  
"Marie.Has anyone contacted her?" Sam's voice in the silence startles Danny and he jumps slightly.  
  
"Yeah, someone did, and. she's on her way down. She was in Ithaca, but she should be here any time in the next two hours."  
  
"Ok, good." Sam couldn't believe her selfishness; she hadn't even considered the other woman in all this. She was so focused on him and herself. Though considering what happened before he was..she couldn't say it, could anyone blame her for some selfishness?  
  
"Sam, we need to take your statement," Danny says quietly, with a hint of sadness.  
  
"After.I won't forget Danny.ever."  
  
He nods at her. "Yeah, ok. After."  
  
Getting up, Sam's underused muscles protest at the sudden movement. She paces in front of Danny, who she can see out of the corner of her eye, watching her carefully. She makes tight, quick circles, the anxiety apparent to anyone watching her. She is turned with her back to the door when Danny's hand reaches out and grabs her forearm, stalling her movements. She looks down at him and follows his gaze to a doctor standing just inside the doorway. Oh god. The doctor didn't have any expression on her face. Sam wondered if that was a class in medical school: "How Not to Give Away the Patient's Condition 101".  
  
"You're here for Jack Malone, correct?"  
  
Sam steps forward before anyone else can. "Yes. How."  
  
"He should be fine. We repaired the damage to his liver -- it was pretty extensive. He lost a lot of blood. It's going to be a tough recovery, but he was a lucky man. If someone hadn't been on scene, he would have died." The doctor stops and replaces the chart under her arm.  
  
"Can we.can we see him," Sam asks, quietly. She needs to see him, to reassure herself that he is alive.  
  
"Someone will let you know when he has been moved to ICU and then two at a time for 10 minutes. That's it. I'm making an exception in this case anyway, considering the circumstances."  
  
Sam just stands there, frozen to the spot. He is going to be fine. He didn't die, didn't leave her alone. Relief washes through her and she lets out the breath she has been holding. Lost in her own thoughts, she almost misses Danny speaking to her, until his hands on her shoulders bring her back.  
  
"Samantha. Come on."  
  
"No, no. Let everyone else go first. I can wait a bit. I think I need to settle down a little first." She can see Danny reading between the lines. She wants to wait so maybe she can squeeze out an extra few minutes of time.  
  
Danny nods his assent, and he quickly confers with the others, easily deciding who goes first. Van Doren and Viv followed by Martin and Danny and finally Samantha.  
  
She sits and watches as the groups take turns going into the room, almost dreading her own turn. Her emotions are a mixed bag of wanting to see him alive and the fear of seeing him lying in that hospital bed recovering from major surgery that removed a bullet that he wouldn't have taken if she had only managed to convince him not to go. She SHOULD have called Danny, Martin, even Van Doren, and told them what was going on. Maybe they could have stopped him from carrying out his foolish idea. But instead, she decided she would go with him and be his backup. A lot of good that did. Just as she is starting to go through the events of the day, Danny touches her shoulder lightly, indicating it is her turn.  
  
"Thanks Danny." She means more than just letting her know about her turn.  
  
He just nods. "You want me to come with you?"  
  
"No, no. I'm ok. He's alive.how can I not be?" She gives him a strained smile and gets up again, heading out the door and following the signs to ICU 3.  
  
Licking her lips and biting the lower one gently, Sam approaches the room, not looking through the wall of glass intentionally. She doesn't want to see him until she can touch him, and feel his warm skin against hers. Pushing open the door, Sam takes a deep breath and advances toward the bed, taking in his appearance.  
  
He is pale, a ghostly shade of white she didn't think was humanly possible. There are numerous tubes and monitors coming from every part of his body. A respirator breathes for him until his oxygen levels even out. She can see the heavy bandage on his lower abdomen, concentrated on his right side over what is the.wound site. The blanket is pulled up to his waist, not covering much, but allowing easier access to the incision.  
  
Mindful of the IV, she lifts his hand, placing her smaller one under it and wrapping her long fingers around the top. His skin is warm compared to the cold-looking color of his skin. It brings her some measure of relief. Stroking his forearm with her free hand, she speaks to him in low tones.  
  
"Hey Jack. You.scared me, you know that?" She pauses and looks at his face, eyes closed, skin pale. It isn't a sight she is likely to forget.  
  
Sighing, she shifts slightly in the chair she has moved closer to the bed. She couldn't think of anything to say. But their relationship was frequently like that. They didn't need to speak to each other to communicate. More than once, they'd had an entire conversation in front of colleagues without anyone else even realizing. It was that subtle communication that drew her to him. It had always been there, but it had refined itself as time wore on.  
  
She reaches up and moves some hair off his forehead, letting her hand linger a little longer than it probably needed to. She needs the contact with him to reassure herself he is alive, that this isn't a dream she will wake up from and find that Jack is dead and she is alone. Just the thought of it sends a shudder through her body. Even though it had only been 4 years since they started working together and really just over a year since their relationship started, Sam couldn't remember a time when Jack Malone wasn't in her life. And that scared her. To think that at some point, Samantha Spade had made a man something more important to her than a casual date and maybe sex. Before Jack Malone, her relationships frequently burned hot for a short period before she moved onto the next one. What she and Jack had is the closest thing she ever had to a serious relationship...considering.  
  
Finally allowing her body to relax a little, Sam puts her head down on the bed near his hip and closes her eyes. It was going to be ok, everything was finally going to be ok. And then the door opens.  
  
She hears the noise and immediately snaps her head up, an instinct drilled into her from a year of pretending she and Jack weren't more than colleagues. But looking into Marie's eyes, she knows she has been caught. They have been caught. She stands quickly, a little unsteady on her feet initially.  
  
"Marie." She starts before being cut off by the older woman taking a step toward her.  
  
"Samantha" Her voice is..tense and Sam cringes when the woman says her name. "How is he?"  
  
Sam can tell the other woman detested even having to ask her and she knows Marie would be more comfortable with anyone in the room but her. She watches as Marie moves around her and takes Sam's previous position. Grabbing Jack's hand carefully, Marie remains standing.  
  
"The doctor said he should be fine. Umm.she should be around if you want more specific information. Jack..he'll be ok." She can't do it, can't repeat what she had seen; it was like seeing it happen over again. In this case, her ability to remember the smallest detail is a curse instead of a blessing.  
  
"Samantha, what happened out there?"  
  
And there it was. The one question Sam wanted to answer, but couldn't.  
  
"I don't know." She answered honestly. Almost immediately, Marie bristled and got on the offensive.  
  
"How can you not know? You were there, weren't you?"  
  
Suddenly Sam feels like she is a teenager again, being interrogated by her mom about the most recent thing she's done wrong. She hates that feeling and quickly tamps it down, replacing it with anger at this woman. Marie has no idea what they go through on a daily basis, much less what happened that night. Besides, she isn't Sam's boss and Sam doesn't owe her an explanation.  
  
"Yes." she starts tersely, pulling herself up to her full height. "I was there, but I was tending to the other victim when Jack was shot. I didn't see it happen."  
  
"You left him with a suspect? Alone?"  
  
Sam reads between the lines easily and her temper flares again. "We did what we could considering.you know, I don't have to explain my actions to you. Ever. All you need to know is he will make it."  
  
"I'm sure its OPR's business. I think it's time for you to leave. You've caused enough trouble for this family already."  
  
Sam is stunned, frozen to the spot. She didn't think this would be easy, but that was the last thing she expected Marie to say. Taking a confident step forward, Sam lowers her voice so only Marie can hear. "Don't think you can get rid of me that easily. I care for that man more than you can imagine. And that's why I was there, why I broke protocol and put my career on the line. You have every right to think whatever you want of me, but just consider what would have happened if I hadn't been there. He means the world to me and you may hate me for what happened between us, but I wasn't the only one there."  
  
Standing tall again, Sam leans around Marie and squeezes Jacks prone hand, her eyes traveling to Jack's peaceful face. She speaks quietly to the silent figure on the bed.  
  
"I'll be back later. Get better, Jack." Turning back, she addresses Marie. "Goodbye Marie."  
  
Walking stridently into the hall, Sam makes it to the waiting room before sitting heavily into a stiff chair; where her bluster quickly fades into shaking. She hadn't wanted to get into it with Marie here, but she couldn't stand back and let the woman fling accusations at her. Leaning over, she places her head in her hands and closes her eyes for a moment, willing herself to calm down. A hand on her shoulder causes Sam to open her eyes to reality again, and she looks up at the person looking at her. Danny.  
  
"It's time," is all he says, and she nods her head slowly. She is not looking forward to explaining their actions. Taking a breath, Sam stands and follows Danny out of the room, hoping this day wont be her last as a federal agent.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
FBI Offices, Same Day  
  
"I told you. We didn't see the extra car arrive. We only noticed it when the lights came on in the garage."  
  
"Ok, lets go over this one more time."  
  
Samantha shoots Van Doren and the OPR investigator nasty looks. She is tired of this. She has explained what happened already, answering their questions honestly and as best she could. She is tired of being treated like a suspect instead of a fellow FBI agent. She expected this treatment from OPR, but not from especially can't believe she is also getting this treatment from Van Doren of all people- one of her own. The OPR agent they sent is close to Jack's age, although not nearly as handsome. He is starting to go bald and his eyes are an unusual blue. Sam is sure they caught more than one woman's attention in his younger years. His blue suit is pressed to perfection; nothing is out of place.  
  
Shaking her head, she looks directly at them. "We have already gone over this once. Why do we have to do it again?"  
  
The OPR investigator speaks first. "Because Agent Spade, all the questions haven't been answered to my satisfaction."  
  
"Are you people ever satisfied? You're no better then that weasel Farrell. Just higher up on the food chain."  
  
"Agent Spade!" Van Doren snaps and gives her a look as harsh as the ones she had been sending to the other side of the table.  
  
"Fine," she sighs and entwines her fingers together in front of her on the table. "Jack- Agent Malone and myself arrived at the scene about 1 am and watched the house. We suspected the victim was being held in until approximately 3:30 am, at which point we noticed a vehicle in the driveway that had not been there previously. Shortly thereafter, the victim was brought out kicking and screaming. We approached the suspects and ordered them to hold still with our weapons trained on them. One of the suspects started moving toward the back of the vehicle parked in the garage. Agent Malone ordered him to stop twice before firing. I then removed the victim from the suspect's possession and moved her to a more secure location on the driveway to ascertain if she had sustained any injuries. She had not. I heard two gunshots behind me and when I turned back around, both the suspect.." She had to pause, just remembering seeing him there brought it all back for her. Taking a deep breath, Sam blocks out the visual and continues. "And Agent Malone was on the ground. The suspect was dead. Agent Malone was bleeding profusely from a chest wound. I called for assistance and attempted to keep Jack alive until rescue crews arrived. Happy now?"  
  
She hadn't even noticed the use of Jack at the end of her statement, but obviously the OPR investigator did.  
  
"Why were you there in the first place? Didn't Agent Van Doren specifically tell you not to go near the residence because you had no probable cause?"  
  
"Well.yes. But."  
  
"No buts, Agent Spade. If your superior gives you a direct order, you should follow it."  
  
"I am well aware of that fact, Agent Pedigrew, but Agent Malone was going out there. I decided it would be best if he had backup instead of going alone, regardless of Agent Van Doren's order."  
  
"So you went out there to watch his back?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"He didn't ask you to come?"  
  
She pauses a minute, trying to figure out where he is going with this. "No. I went on my own."  
  
"You're sure that your.relationship had nothing to do with your decision?"  
  
Now Sam can feel her anger flowing. What exactly is this little prick implying? "I'm sorry? What?"  
  
"Are you sure that your personal relationship with Agent Malone didn't influence your decision to disobey a direct order?"  
  
"There IS no personal relationship between myself and Agent Malone," she states through gritted teeth.  
  
He scribbles something on a sheet in front of him.  
  
"You know.if you are going to accuse me of something, just do it. Don't dance around it," she practically spits at him. If he did ask, she would deny it yet again -- for Jack's sake more than hers.  
  
"All right. Agent Spade, would Agent Malone have taken advantage of your personal relationship, past or present, to get you to go out there and breech protocol?"  
  
"Never, and I am offended at the insinuation that I would be so malleable had there BEEN a personal relationship."  
  
"So you state then that you."  
  
"NO. If you're done, I'll be leaving now." She starts to stand before Agent Pedigrew's hand lifts and stops her from heading right out the door. 'This guy is really starting to piss me off,' she thinks and sits back down defiantly.  
  
"Just a few more questions. Why didn't you see the second vehicle? You stated you and Malone were surveiling the residence. What where you doing?"  
  
"We were talking; neither of us really watching the house. That was our mistake. We should have been more observant."  
  
"Yes, you probably should have been. What were you discussing?"  
  
Sam is angrier now then she has ever been in her life, including the encounter with Farrell. Her normally chocolate brown eyes are closer to black than brown, and she tenses before snapping at the investigator.  
  
"That is NONE of your business."  
  
"But it is. Why you missed that car is relevant to this investigation. You state you and Agent Malone were talking. About what? That is, if you were indeed talking."  
  
"We were discussing the last OPR investigation we had to put up with, if you must know. I'm sure that's in your file somewhere."  
  
"Oh, it is indeed. Full of interesting information Agent Farrell dug up."  
  
For a moment the two stare at each other -- a test of wills in a way. Knowing looks are exchanged in a second: he knew about the affair- or at least thought he did. She denies everything yet again. This time without saying a word.  
  
"And you didn't see the shooting?"  
  
Regret fills her eyes and her voice drops in volume. "No, I didn't. I wish I had. I wish my back wasn't turned. Maybe I could have done something to help him."  
  
"Ok, Agent Spade, I think I have enough. As of now, you are suspended to desk duty until our investigation is over. I'll be contacting you if I need more information. Thank you," The older man carefully gets up and shakes her hand. She is loath to even touch him.  
  
After he leaves, Sam turns to Van Doren, who doesn't look very pleased.  
  
"Samantha, I don't blame you for lying to OPR, but do not lie to me. Is your relationship with Jack over?"  
  
For the second time that day, Sam is stunned; apparently their secret isn't much of one. "I wasn't.yeah. It's over. Has been for a long time."  
  
"Good. Keep it that way; it's better for all involved. You're lucky you both are still assigned to this unit."  
  
"I know. Thank you." She takes a few steps to the door, opening it slightly before Van Doren's voice calls her back.  
  
The older woman nods. "Get some rest in the next few days. I'll call you when I hear from OPR."  
  
"Not sure I can rest anymore," Sam states, and walks out the door.  
  
tbc........ 


	5. The future and the end

Title: Negligence  
  
Author: Stepf  
  
AN: Sniffle, it's the end folks. Here is the last chapter. Its not.epic by my standards, but just perfectly long enough. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, and I hope you have all enjoyed reading. See you again soon I hope.  
  
Thank you to everyone who took the time to review, its greatly appreciated. A special thanks to Maple Streeeeet and everyone there, your encouragement is fabulous.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Three Days Later  
  
After a fitful nap in the afternoon Sam drags herself out of bed and takes a hot shower. But it seems that no matter how many hot showers she takes, she can't erase the guilt she feels. When that fails to accomplish anything yet again she quickly gets dressed in a pair of jeans and long sleeved shirt, puts on her favorite black boots and heads out the door. She doesn't care if Marie is at the hospital or not, Sam needs to see him. She has to talk to him, apologize for not having his back, for not stopping what happened. Since Jack regained consciousness the day after the incident, she has only gone during the day, accompanied by Danny or Martin, when Marie was there. This didn't afford her the privacy she needed to speak to Jack; plus, she highly doubted that Marie would have left her and Jack alone without a fight. But today she would be undeterred. The need to talk to him privately outweighed a potential argument with Marie. Things needed to be said.  
  
On the subway ride over, her nerves start shaking her more than the halting movements of the car. She is suddenly terrified to talk to him. Somewhere deep inside, Sam is afraid he won't forgive her- even though she doesn't deserve it. She has placed the full blame full on herself for this; there is really no one else to blame. There were 2 of them there, but she isn't the one lying prone in a hospital bed from a gunshot wound. She keeps going through what would have happened if she had called someone, anyone, instead of going out there alone with him. Would it have changed anything really? Or would the same outcome occur, only with another person there? Would someone else have been shot? What if she had convinced him to leave, to not even be there at all? Sam decides to stop thinking about it. She could easily drive herself mad debating all the possible outcomes.  
  
For a brief moment she considers getting off at the next stop and going back home, where it's safe -- no Jack, no Marie, no confrontations. But Sam has never backed down from anything in her life and she isn't going to start now. She doesn't need absolution from him; she expects nothing from him. In fact, all she wants to know is that he will be back and leading them in time. The deal she had made with herself is still valid: Jack survived, though their relationship probably wouldn't. Yes, they had broken off their affair months ago, but they both knew there was always something underneath the surface that just felt unfinished. Despite his words on that bench, despite that last hug, it wasn't over, not by a long shot. There was too much history there to ignore -- until now. With another OPR investigation so close to the last, they would be under the tightest scrutiny; every move would be interpreted, every word would be overanalyzed. It would be like living in a fishbowl. 'Maybe I should just leave,' she thinks. 'It would make everything that much easier.' She could go to Los Angeles or Detroit. Both cities were starting their own Missing Persons unit, and one of the guys in Detroit was a former boss of hers. She shakes her head as the subway gets to her stop. She would never leave and she knows it.  
  
Room 300, ICU, Bellevue Hospital  
  
He shifts for what seems like the hundredth time that hour. Jack can't seem to make himself comfortable at all. After a while, his position would become unpleasant and he would move for some brief relief before more pain settled in his chest and again he would move. It is becoming a very tiresome cycle, but it is apparently not uncommon for chest wounds. Finally settling in, Jack sighs and closes his eyes, enjoying the silence. For two days straight, Marie had sat by his side every waking hour, only leaving at night to tend to the kids. Honestly, he is annoyed with her; she has been flitting about him like there was nothing wrong between them, and they never had separated. Finally that morning when the sun came up, he'd asked her to go, see the kids, get out of the confines of the hospital , and by extension, out of his way.  
  
The only person he really wants to talk to hasn't been there alone yet. He noticed that she looked tired during her last visit with Danny. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin, which was usually radiant, was sallow, almost grey and he could have sworn she'd lost 10 pounds. With his eyes closed, he tries to remember the last picture in his head before he woke up again in the hospital trauma room. It was Sam, kneeling over him, calling his name. Her voice was so frantic, he couldn't remember ever hearing Samantha Spade sound that scared. Sam..he was so afraid something would happen to her if he didn't shoot the suspect dead. Despite the searing pain of his wound, Jack had the presence of mind to consider her life before his even as he hit the concrete.  
  
Something about a near death experience really brings life into focus. What you need, what you want, and how much you are willing to give up to have it. You reflect on what's really important, and somehow work has ended up closer to the bottom of the list than he'd expected. But what is at the top of the list shocks him more. Jack thought he had resigned himself to a life without her. Now more sure than ever that he wants her in his life, no matter the cost.  
  
Lost in thought, he is startled when a noise the room alerts him to someone else's presence. Without even opening his eyes, he knows who it is. Sam. The smell her of perfume mingles with the antiseptic hospital smell. Slowly he opens his eyes and finds her standing at the end of his bed, her face a mix of joy and trepidation.  
  
"Sam." He smiles as he says it, waiting for her to move closer to the head of the bed. He is surprised when she doesn't.  
  
"Hey Jack. How are you feeling?" Her tone is.cold, almost.  
  
"Better. Especially now that you are here." His voice is rough; it still hurts slightly to even say the words.  
  
"Don't.don't say that." She pauses slightly before deciding to just plow right into the reason she came. "I just wanted to come and tell you how sorry I am this even happened. I know you can't forgive me, and maybe this is some attempt to assuage my own guilt, but I'm so very sorry."  
  
"Why are you sorry?" He takes in the distressed look on her face and wonders what is going through her head that she feels the need to apologize to him.  
  
"I let you get shot Jack. I was RIGHT there and I turned my back to you and 2 suspects.."  
  
Quickly he cuts her off, as he can see her getting agitated. "Sam. I don't blame you. You SAVED my life. If you hadn't been there." He lets the implication hang there; they both know what would have happened.  
  
"Maybe if I hadn't been there, you wouldn't have either. I should have talked you out of it." By now her voice is softening.  
  
"Sam." He waves to her slightly, indicating for her to move up the side of the bed, and she does. "Sweetheart, I don't blame you for any of this. And you know that once my mind is made up, no one can talk me out of something. Even you." By now he is gently holding her hand, stroking his thumb along the ridges of her knuckles. Slowly she sinks into the chair next to him.  
  
"I.can't help but blame myself, Jack. I'm not in the hospital." He sees her lower lip quivering slightly and reaches up, pushing some stray hairs back behind her ears, allowing his knuckles to linger slightly on her soft skin.  
  
"I can't take away the guilt, Sam. That's something you need to accept. But I do not blame you, no one does." He trails one finger down her cheek, coming to a stop at her jawbone.  
  
"OPR does," she says and leans slightly into him as he cups her face.  
  
"That's OPR Sam. They have to blame someone, even if no one is at fault, or the person they want to blame is in a hospital bed."  
  
"Jack."  
  
He cuts her off to avoid what he knows is coming next, dropping his hand down and wrapping his fingers around hers. "Didn't you learn how OPR works from our last encounter?"  
  
"All too well. They didn't change their tune much." She gives him a knowing look.  
  
"Really? Dare I ask?"  
  
"They asked if we were having a relationship and if that had any bearing on my presence there. I denied it."  
  
"At least it wasn't a lie." He gives her a heartrending look.  
  
"No, it wasn't." There is a touch of unhappiness in her tone.  
  
"Would you rather have had to lie?" It was a question in a question, he admits it, but neither of them want to voice anything aloud in a place where someone could walk in the door at any minute.  
  
"Honestly, yes. I.miss you. So much. I didn't realize how much until I almost lost you."  
  
"I know the feeling. You know, when I was lying there.I could hear your voice talking to me, telling me not to leave you." He pauses to wipe away an escaped tear running down her face, entwining his fingers with hers. "I thought I was going to die Sam, I really did. My first thought was of the girls. I wouldn't see them grow up, graduate, marry. Then I thought of you. Not Marie.you. I wouldn't see your smile, hear you laugh, or touch you again. I'm not sure I can give you up, Sam."  
  
"Jack, what are you saying?"  
  
"I'm saying.I'm saying I don't want it to be over."  
  
"Yeah, me neither."  
  
He gives her a small smile before giving into the exhaustion that has been pulling at him, finally knowing that everything is as it should be.  
  
Rifinito~ 


End file.
